Leaves of red and gold are falling
The gentle wind is whistling
Again it's autumn
A fair season just before cold winter.
The once green trees
Had its time about to come
Oh time, I ask
What else could be more fleeting than thee?
I laid supine beneath the withering tree
From the cares of this world I flee
For I am running out of hope
I'm running out of smiles.
The sun, shining in gold
A warmth that never grows old
My joy, left untold
As fair dusk I behold.
YOU ARE READING
When Rhymes Speak
Poetrythis is an ongoing collection of my original poem compositions made from different moods and inspirations feel free to leave a vote if you like them ^_^) some of the images attached are originally taken by me and some aren't, so the credits will be...
